


Portable Magic

by starzki



Category: Inuyasha - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 15:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17246384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzki/pseuds/starzki
Summary: As The Enchanted Coral, Sango is the magician of the World's Greatest Traveling Carnival. But everything is changing around her. Sango is not good with change. And as Sango experiences real magic for the first time, Miroku bears the brunt of just how not good with change she is.





	Portable Magic

Author's Note: This is for Molly/dunklheit for 2018 MiroSanta. You gave me a wondeful fanart last year and I'm able to give you a story this year. You wanted Miroku turned into a rabbit. Here you go.

 

-x-

 

Sango hated change. Nothing good ever seemed to come of it.

 

And everything was changing around her, mostly without her input or consent, but some of it she had, in fact, initiated. And it was all going to hell.

 

At least that’s what it felt like.

 

The major change was occurring with her career. Sango had been a part of the World’s Greatest Travelling Carnival her entire life. Her parents, along with their partner Myouga, had developed it, had charted and mapped where they would be from week to week, from city to town to village, and though they kept moving, everything was predictable. Comfortable.

 

But Myouga, who had inherited the entire Carnival after they had died, was getting old. The creaky, long, wagon rides from place to place caused aches and pains that were more and more difficult to hide from their audiences. The World’s Greatest Carnival (that no longer traveled) was putting down permanent stakes outside of South City.

 

Which meant Sango had to change her whole routine. Regular crowds meant people were more likely to spot the accomplices from the Carnival. Her magic was an illusion strung together with many slights of hand, misdirection of attention, lock picking, engineered props, and yes, outright lies and fabrication from her fellow carnies. Most of the illusions she could keep. But the “interactive” part of her act, which, she admitted, most enthralled the crowds, needed major overhauls. As she performed as “The Enchanted Coral,” a stage name preselected by her own parents, she wanted to be perfect.

 

Sango sighed as she made her way across the fairgrounds, the last they would see of this place before their final trek to South City. She loved her act, even though it contained none of the real magic of her parents’ act. She had not been born with their gifts. They had told her not to worry, that she would develop them someday, but they died when she was only sixteen. They had never been able to tell her why they were so confident she would know true magic in the end.

 

“Sango! Sango!” Shippou called to her, racing between the wagons and tents and waving to her.

 

Her apprentice was red-faced and out of breath. “What is it?”

 

He took a moment before looking up at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry about the show last night,” he said. “I forgot to pull back the table and the trap didn’t spring properly.”

 

Sango smiled. “It worked out okay in the end. You covered very well with the whole clumsy tripping act.  You did made the audience laugh _and_ moved the table to where it should be. No one noticed and you made the routine better. You think well on your feet.”

 

He blushed at the compliment and promised to do better next time before running off to help set up for the next show.

 

This was the exact thing she would miss most about travelling. Most of her carnival friends loved being on stage with her as “volunteers,” and except for Shippou who would carry on as her sidekick, that was all ending.

 

Just before she entered her wagon car, her own personal room in the Carnival’s caravan, she spied Miroku talking to Mushin. These were Miroku’s old stomping grounds and he was delighted his uncle was able to stop by. Miroku caught her eye and grinned at her, miming taking a drink and crossing his eyes and pointing at Mushin, whose back was turned to him. Apparently, he was drunk again.

 

Sango tried to stop her smile and failed. Then she felt sad all over again.

 

Miroku. The other major change happening in her life. This one was no one’s doing but her own and she hated herself for it. Her heart was a complete traitor.

 

There was no doubt about it. Sango was in love with Miroku. She wanted to marry him and have a hundred of his fat babies. But, as Kagura, one of the conjoined twins she had grown up with had warned her, he was too much of a flirt to settle down, to be the “marrying kind.”

 

Sango, of course, already knew this. She had held him at arm’s length for years. But he was too charming. She was too tired of resisting, of being lonely, of denying herself his full attentions. Just a little over a week ago, everything had changed. After years of rejecting him, she had stolen away in the night into his wagon. She had kissed him. With surprise and delight, he kissed her back. And as the moon shone full and bright over their travelling caravan, they had made love, made promises, and made everything so much worse.

 

At least that is what she had discovered just a couple of days later when she had gifted him one of her greatest treasures.

 

-x-

 

Six days before, less than 48 hours since they had made love, she had gone to his wagon to see him again:

 

“Well, if it isn’t The Enchanted Coral? To what do I owe this immense pleasure,” Miroku had said that day with a flourish that made Sango blush. She spied a dark red splotch on his neck: her handiwork. She would have to be more careful in the future.

 

“Oh, you know…” she started, still awkward, still in heaven with that night’s memories fresh in her mind.

 

Miroku smiled for real, dropped the formality and waved her into his wagon. The bed was made, thank goodness, but the room was still messy and in disarray. He was in the middle of figuring out his new act as a fortune teller and his props and decorations had not yet found the best places to evoke the wonder and mystery he wished to convey. “Do we need to go over tonight’s act? Or…?” He trailed off and glanced at the bed.

 

Sango blushed harder and giggled. “No!” she said a little too loud. “I just. I guess. Um.” She couldn’t get the words out. Miroku was smiling at her so gently her heart could not find the right rhythm. “I wanted to thank you for… you know,” she finally got out.

 

It was his turn to blush. Sango felt a shot of pride that she affected him that way, as well.

 

Miroku circled his arms around her and she rested her head against his chest, loving the steady thrum of his heart next to her ear. “I…” he started, then cleared his throat. He began rocking her a little. “I feel like I’m going to say the wrong thing. Because ‘you’re welcome,’ make it seem like I was doing you a favor. And anything else seems too… insubstantial. Too glib.” He pulled away and she looked into his dark eyes. “It was so special to me. _You’re_ so special to me.”

 

Sango sighed in relief. That was almost exactly what she wanted to hear. She had been afraid that after making him wait so long, the actual experience of being with her would be disappointing. Or that she was only a conquest: one of many to be had and certainly not the last. “Good,” she said and nodded. “Because I wanted to give you something.”

 

His grin quirked and his eyebrows jumped. “Something more?” His eyes darted back to the bed, making Sango laugh again.

 

She pushed him away and dug into her pocket and pulled out a long necklace chain with a simple silver ring on it.

 

Her ring. Her father’s ring. And now Miroku’s ring. A match to the one from her mother that she wore around her own neck.

 

It was the ring that made Sango fall for Miroku those three years ago.

 

_She was sixteen and the pain was still too new, too great to function like a normal person. Things passed in a haze. She didn’t notice the coming and goings of roadies any more. She didn’t notice when Miroku was hired on. Her parents had only been dead a few weeks. Besides, roadies often came and went within months according to their own inclinations._

_The Blue Fever had decimated the whole country and The Greatest Travelling Carnival had not been spared. Even with their bright magics, Sango’s parents didn’t survive. But the show must go on. Myouga did what he could to shuffle the acts around, to make up for the new blank spaces, and they were up and touring again within two weeks. Sango would grieve, then take up her parents’ mantle and create her own magic act. Myouga said she could take as long as she needed._

_The next stop was a village by the sea and the breaking waves and gentle winds calmed Sango’s mind. She began, mentally, to create an act. She could already count cards, pick locks, and do coin tricks. She was learning passes and had some ideas for contraptions that would amaze audiences. Those days, wading on the beach watching the clouds were the start of her healing and the start of the act she developed and loved._

_But then, disaster. It was a broken clasp. At their deaths, most of her parents’ belongings had been burned, but Myouga had saved their wedding rings. A thick silver band from her father and a thinner matching band with inlaid pink quartz stone from her mother. She wore both on a chain around her neck and she found peace in running the rings up and down the chain as she watched the sea._

_On the third day, the clasp broke. The chain and both rings tumbled into the sea. Frantic, she grasped for them, finding the chain immediately, and then her father’s ring only after the sun glinted on the silver. It was already almost totally buried beneath the sand._

_After an hour of looking, she supposed her mother’s ring was lost forever. She returned to the carnival crying as hard as if she had lost her mother all over again._

_Betrayed, she did not return to her spot by the sea and instead busied herself with rebuilding the carnival and running errands for the other acts that were keeping her parents’ dream alive._

_Over the next week, she could barely bring herself to look toward the sea, but in the corner of her eye, at the spot she had herself held for days, she saw another figure, pacing knee-deep in the water. She asked around and discovered it was a new roadie. He was a boy of about eighteen and his name was Miroku. He was earning the ire of most in the carnival for not doing enough to pull his weight with all his time spent on the beach. What was even more disappointing, they said, was that he had been really helpful and reliable up until this last week._

_Sango paid it little mind. He would work out for them or he would not. She had her own problems to worry about. She doubted that when they pulled up stakes and left this sleepy seaside town that her path would ever fully cross his._

_He proved her wrong the next day. She was helping Kanna weave netting as a part of the twin’s new costume (Kagura had been similarly inspired by the sea) when the young Miroku strode up with a proud smile and a twinkle in his eye. He bowed the young women and dropped to his knee in front of Sango._

_“Would you do me the honor,” he said with sexy confidence, “of bearing my child?”_

_Sango’s hand struck out before her mind even fully processed what he had asked. It was not a hard slap to his cheek, but it was not a light one either. But suddenly she was laughing at his woozy smile, even as he clutched his face. And then there it was. Her mother’s ring being proffered from his fingers._

_“So that’s a no?” he asked with impish delight._

_“You found it!” Sango kept laughing even as the tears fell from her lashes. She felt gleeful and indebted and angry and attracted to this infuriating man all at the same time._

_“I’d seen you out there. But then you came back looking like the saddest woman I’d ever seen. I couldn’t let that happen, so I found out what happened and looked for myself. I’ve always been lucky. And I wanted to see you smile.”_

_She took the ring from him and held it to her heart. She decided to answer his question with one of her own, “What do you know about magic?”_

Sango had held the chain with her father’s ring out to Miroku. It was one of her precious treasures and, for her, it meant she was giving him all the love in her heart. She wanted him to take it with all the love in his.

 

His eyes flicked to the chain, then down to the ring. Then back to the chain. His smile faltered, but he recovered. Sango knew Miroku well enough to see through it. Disappointment. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

 

“It was my father’s…” she prompted, hoping that he just had not recognized the ring she had worn every day of her life. He knew how precious it was to her. She did not understand why he was not overjoyed that it was now a gift. Unless… he did not feel the same way she did.

 

Miroku gulped, his face sober. “I’m… honored, Sango.” A strange hardness that Sango had never seen crept into Miroku’s eyes and her heart sank further. She was just about to put the ring back into her pocket when Miroku took the necklace. He dutifully slipped it on and tucked the ring into his collar. He pressed to his heart and a real smile tugged at his mouth. “Thank you.”

 

It all suddenly felt like a mistake: The night together. That she could believe that he felt for her as she did for him. That she would give away her father’s ring to a man who did not deserve it. She opened her mouth to ask Miroku what he was thinking, to ask him to reassure her when from outside of the wagon, she heard Shippou calling for her wanting her advice on an illusion involving her trained kitten, Kirara.

 

Suddenly, that afternoon six days ago, she had wanted to be anywhere else, and she had beat a hasty exit to help Shippou set up her act for the night. She decided to avoid him until she figured out her next step.

 

-x-

 

Things had been awkward ever since.

 

It had not just been her. Miroku was suddenly strangely subdued around her. More formal. Less of a flirt. He didn’t meet her eyes as often, or even try to steal a kiss. When Mushin had showed up, Miroku had all but danced a jig to have a distraction away from the woman he had just bedded. Or so it seemed to Sango.  But the distraction of Miroku’s drunk uncle did lift some of the tension. Miroku was spending nights with him and he seemed to smile more easily again.

 

It was their last night in this village and they hoped to leave with a lot of good word-of-mouth about the show. This village was close enough that some may come with regularity to South City.

 

That night, Miroku was her audience confederate. After card tricks and a new routine that she had set up to music that was like a choreographed dance depicting the story of the local myth of the demon bear that included disappearing and reappearing objects, Kirara, and a little fire, Miroku was set up to be her “Fighter of the Bear Spirit.” He would dress as a villager, “volunteer” from the audience, and enter her magic box contraption from which he would dutifully disappear from the audience and reappear across the room “surprised” to find himself suddenly dressed up as the demon bear of myth. He was quite the actor and Sango loved this particular trick. The audiences ate it up.

 

It was also the last time they would be performing it together, she thought with sadness.

 

About an hour before showtime, Sango went in search of Miroku. One of the hasps in her magic box was being tricky and she wanted to make sure he knew how to open it smoothly. She ducked through some costumes hanging to dry after their wash and spied Miroku’s wagon. Just leaving it was a beautiful young woman.

 

Sango’s mouth fell open.

 

Miroku followed this woman out of the door, still talking intently with her. It didn’t _look_ particularly romantic, but she could not deny what she saw. Jealousy spread like ivy through her veins. Her legs kept her moving toward the two and within five hard heartbeats, she was next to them.

 

Miroku did not even have the decency to look embarrassed. “Sango! This is Kikyou. She’s a local fortune teller and priestess. She came to give me some pointers.”

 

Sango did not return his smile and looked at the young woman. Kikyou gave a smile of her own, but it did not reach her eyes. “Hello. I hear you are the magician here.”

 

Sango gave Miroku a hard look, “Telling tales?” She could not dictate to him how to develop his own act, but if he was spilling secrets about hers, she would raise holy hell with him.

 

Kikyou continued, “Unfortunately, being a priestess in these parts does not always keep my larders full. And though my own magic is real,” she gave a sly look to Miroku, then to Sango, “I do not mind selling some of the flourishes that people in South City will appreciate.”

 

Something unclenched in Sango and the jealousy faded. So this was professional after all.

 

“She’s giving me some ideas. Maybe if I give the whole prognostication thing a religious perspective, people will respond more. What do you think of me as a monk?”

 

Sango rolled her eyes, still too mad to be taken in by his charm. She bowed to Kikyou, “Thank you, priestess. I hope you are coming to the show tonight.”

 

Kikyou bowed back. “I think I will,” she said with that same placid smile.

 

Sango could not help her scowl as Kikyou turned her back and walked away.  Miroku grabbed Sango’s hand and pulled her up the stairs into his wagon. There had been a transformation. The velvet curtains and crystal balls were gone, replaced with golden religious icons and a strange sense of space and peace.

 

“What do you think,” Miroku asked.

 

Sango was about to let him know she was a little impressed when she saw the bare flesh around his neck.

 

“You’re not wearing the necklace?” she asked, unable to hide the break in her voice. “My father’s ring. I gave it to you to wear.”

 

Miroku’s smile faded and he reached to his throat. “I took it off,” was all he said.

 

Sango felt the tears brimming. Miroku saw them and his face fell.

 

“Look,” he said, “I’m sorry. I was afraid…”

 

Sango cut him off, choking, “Do you know how much that ring means to me?”

 

“Of course!”

 

“And you took it off?” her voice pitched high on the last syllable.

 

He reached into the drawer of his bedside table. “I have it. I’ll wear it.” He slipped it over his head.

 

It felt like the world was crashing down on Sango. This was her last show before everything changed. She just had to get through the night. She would work with Miroku this last time.

 

“This was a mistake,” she whispered. Miroku’s eyes widened in alarm.

 

“No, Sango, it isn’t!”

 

Sango made a gesture and Miroku’s mouth snapped shut. She took a shaky breath. “Look, the upper hasp on the box is sticking.”

 

Miroku shook his head. “We need to talk about this,” he said.

 

“After the show,” she answered. Already, she felt her heart closing. After the show, she would end it. She would focus on her new act. She had done it before. She would do it again.

 

The show must go on.

 

-x-

 

Sango wished she was enjoying it more.

 

Normally, she pulled out all the stops for her last show in each town. She performed the audience favorites and always introduced one or two of the harder, but more impressive feats of escape. The adrenaline of the night usually meant that they were wild successes.

 

But that night she was just going through the motions. What made it worse was that Kikyou was sitting in the center of the front row of the audience. Sango felt the priestess’s judgmental stare at every trick.

 

As the last bit of fire flashed and faded, the audience applauded and cheered. Sango’s kitten, Kirara, was placed back in her crate by Shippou, dressed in a natty suit as her assistant. Sango stole a glance at Kikyou and saw the woman hide a yawn behind her hand.

 

“May I have a volunteer from the audience?” she called. “I need a brave young man who is willing to face the spirit of the bear!” A dozen hands shot up.

 

Sango pretended to assess each person before she pointed at Miroku. “You, sir, seem brave enough.”

 

Miroku was all goofy grins as he hopped up onto the stage. He played local villager so well that an audience had never yet suspected he was planted.

 

“And what is your name, brave sir?”

 

“Hojo,” he said to the audience with such earnestness that people always laughed. That night was no different. But there was something in his eyes. Something dangerous.

 

“I have to warn you, Hojo,” Sango said, continuing their practiced patter, “that not all men who face the spirit bear win. In fact, some never come back at all! My magics can get you to the spirit world, but you must be strong enough to find your way back!”

 

The audience started to murmur, suddenly worried for this nice young man.

 

Miroku did not answer as he should right away. He was supposed to puff up his chest and proclaim his strength and intelligence, but still portray some anxiety. He would step into the magic box, careful of the sticking hasp, “disappear,” and end the show with a bang.

 

Instead, he stood gazing at her while she waited and schooled her face not to betray that he wasn’t following their practiced script to the audience.

 

With a quick motion, he took up and held Sango’s left hand between his own. “With love,” he called to the audience, “I can do anything.”

 

She felt the blush on her cheek. She was suddenly afraid he would kiss her. She was afraid she would let him.

 

Something flashed in Sango. Or burst.

 

He dropped one of his hands and reached for her waist. She could not do this. Not in front of an audience like this. She had to salvage the act.

 

“Pervert!” she cried and struck him with the wand in her right hand as she released a smoke bomb from the cuff of her sleeve. It was one of their old bits and she hoped he would take the hint and “disappear” to rescue the end of the show.

 

There was an audible snap in the air, something that did not come from the smoke bomb and Sango felt… _something_.

 

Only when the smoke cleared did she see what that something was.

 

A rabbit. A normal gray rabbit stood sniffing at the stage around it. The rabbit wore her father’s ring on a necklace around its neck.

 

Sango had changed Miroku into a rabbit. _Sango had changed Miroku into a rabbit._

 

The show, she remembered.

 

She picked the rabbit up by the scruff of its neck and announced, “For taking that liberty, I think I would rather send you to the bear spirit looking like this!”

 

The audience howled with laughter. Sango bowed and quickly left the stage still holding the rabbit.

 

She passed a wide-eyed Kikyou and heard the priestess say, “Now _that_ was some magic.”

 

-x-

 

Sango nearly ran to her wagon, clutching the rabbit to her chest.  Once inside, she set the rabbit down on the ground and began pulling at the neck of her costume, desperate for air. She accidentally pulled on the chain of her own necklace and felt the thin metal break. Sango heard the dull ping as her mother’s ring hit the floor of the wagon, but then heard nothing.  She did not panic at this. The ring was in her wagon and it was not going anywhere. She would find it later.  The problem was Miroku.

 

She carefully slid off the necklace with her father’s ring on it and set it aside on her bedside table. She sat in front of Miroku. She waited. The rabbit did nothing unusual for a rabbit. He mostly just sniffed at the air curiously.

 

“Can you hear me, Miroku?” she asked.

 

The rabbit sniffed at the air, moving slowly to the low table on the floor.

 

“If you can understand me, look at me and blink twice,” she said.

 

The rabbit only continued to sniff at the table.  He couldn’t understand her.  He was 100% fully a rabbit.

 

This was bad.

 

Sango was still holding her wand. She waved it at the rabbit, picturing Miroku in her mind as she did so. Nothing happened. She went so far to tap the rabbit on his head with the wand with the same result.

 

This was very bad.

 

Sango was so used to thinking that she would never have real magic, that whatever it was her parents had would not be passed on to her, that she never really looked for it, never really tried. She had no idea what was different that night. She did not know how she had performed the trick nor what she could do to un-perform it and turn Miroku human again.

 

Word spread quickly through the World’s Greatest Travelling Carnival and person after person stopped by her wagon to give their thoughts and advice. Kanna and Kagura took the wand and promised to do what they could to see if that was the issue.  A few of the roadies decided to look around, to see if Miroku was playing a trick on Sango, but she knew what she felt.

 

Even Myouga showed up at her door.

 

“Did anything like this ever happen with my parents?” she asked the aging ring leader.

 

“Oh, not that I can recall,” he said, stroking the beard at his chin. “Of course, they had long perfected their act before we met…”

 

Sango only shook her head sadly.

 

“Look, young lady. While I can appreciate the problem, we’re pulling up stakes. The land near South City is ready for us and it is time to go.”

 

Sango felt a tinge of surprise, but of course they would press on. There were mouths to feed and people to entertain. “The show must go on,” she whispered.

 

Sango guessed it was okay since it wasn’t that Miroku was missing and she could figure out how to help him just as well moving the caravan along as staying in one spot.

 

For the next several days, that is what she did. Her parents’ books had been fed to the fire years before because of the Blue Fever, but she had found other replacements. So, Sango read and researched, but her books on illusions only showed how to deceive while her books on magic were cagy and unspecific. From what she read in those texts, mistakes were often the result of emotion. But then again, they also said magic was borne of emotion. But they never said which emotion caused mistakes and which caused magic and there was nothing on _fixing_ a mistake. She could not tell if it was because there was no way to fix a mistake or if fixing it was so obvious to everyone else.

 

The rest of the time on the road, she spent with Miroku. She talked to him, apologized at least once an hour it seemed, and tried to find any aspect of him within the rabbit’s personality.  Aside from also seeming to love parsley with everything, there was not much similarity.

 

Even Kirara did not seem to notice. Luckily, Miroku was big enough that the kitten did not try to attack him. They only warily sized each other up before getting bored. However, nervous about him getting out and getting killed, she kept him caged at the foot of her bed.

 

Sango also spent at least an hour every day looking for her mother’s ring. Again, she was not worried it was lost forever as she had been at the sea, but she could not think to where the ring had gotten to. She picked up every single thing from the floor every day and lay flat against the floorboards, yet could see nothing. It was starting to trouble her.

 

After six days of slow travel, the World’s Greatest Carnival dropped the word “Travelling” from its marquee. They had finally arrived at their new home.

 

-x-

 

The carnival had not been still for twenty-four hours before there was a knock at her door. Shippou was there with a man and a woman who were about her age.

 

“Sorry to disturb you, Amazing Coral,” said Shippou in ultra-formal style, “But this Mr. Inuyasha and this Ms. Kagome have mentioned wanting to see you about joining The Amazing Carnival.”  He stepped back and gestured to the white-haired man and the beautiful woman.

 

“You asked for me?” she said, confused. “I don’t make decisions on any act but my own.”

 

“We asked to see the magician,” Kagome said with a patient smile as Sango let them pass into her wagon. “We heard of your great magic ability.”

 

Sango eyed Inuyasha. He was wearing a hat, but she could definitely see the hint of dog ears. She had seen pictures of the first years of the carnival, before she came along, of a Dogboy sideshow act and that man had the same ears as this man, Inuyasha.

 

“Of course! Shippou, please seat this nice couple and I’ll give them a private performance!” It was not unusual for potential acts to want to see the caliber of performer. As distracted and upset about Miroku as she was, she could spare fifteen minutes if it made the carnival better.

 

Taking the hint, Shippou backed quietly into a corner of Sango’s wagon, surreptitiously palming a number of cards, spark bombs, smoke bombs, and other devices to seed the room with as Sango held the couple’s attention. Sango, Inuyasha, and Kagome sat at the black velvet-covered table in the middle of the floor. She checked the invisible wires she had set up and tied to arms of her chair. Each was ready to set off a small device to both distract and awe her small audience.

 

“Mr. Inuyasha, Ms. Kagome,” she began in a serious tone, “My parents imparted me with their skills in magic before they died some years ago.” Kagome gave a little gasp and a sad look at Sango. “Though I am not yet at their level, I have worked to become what they wanted me to be. You see, in fact, I am not fully human.” Inuyasha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Sango hid her smile. She had their attention with this lie and Shippou could go to work.

 

“They found me as a baby on the beach. Around my neck was a beautiful bit of pink coral. As best they could tell, I was the child of a merman and a human maiden, forced by her family or her village to return me to my father.” She reached into the side drawer of the table and pulled out a bit of pink coral on a tiny necklace and slid it onto her wrist. “This is the source of my magic.” She saw definite interest in both people in front of her. “My parents named me for this coral and knew that, with their own good magic, they would be able to raise me when my mother couldn’t.”

 

And with that, she produced a deck of tarot cards. She pretended to tell her own future by making various slights of hand. First, they were looking at the image of The Moon, which she palmed into seeming ether before producing The Sun, and with a spark and boom, became The Magician.

 

“And you, so beautiful in front of me,” she nodded at Kagome, “have your own fortune within your purse.” Kagome grinned widely and dug into the bag she had hung on her chair. She pulled out The High Priestess card and laughed in delight.

 

That was unusual. She had instructed Shippou to always have The Empress card slipped into young women’s possessions. She hid her own surprise at the mix up.

 

“And you, brave sir, should have your fortune in your pocket.” He should have had Strength in there, but instead, he pulled out The Fool. Kagome’s laugh was immediate, as was Inuyasha’s scowl. Sango snuck a look at Shippou, who looked equally confused.

 

Sango weaved the new fortunes into a story where she was able to showcase several other illusions that foretold a hard, but ultimately successful life for both people across from her. Kagome delighted in every wisp of smoke or reappearance of a seemingly lost object. She clapped happily as Sango finished. Inuyasha still just looked grumpy.

 

“Well, that’s a little of what I do, anyway. I will be changing quite a bit of my act soon.”

 

“Of course you will be,” said Kagome with a sly grin.

 

Sango shot her a confused look before she turned to Inuyasha. “We haven’t had a Dogboy here in so long. I know Myouga will be happy to give you anything you need for your act.”

 

Inuyasha, who had seemed annoyed at his own entertainment at Sango’s performance was suddenly glaring at her. “What did you just say to me?” he spat.

 

“I thought…”

 

“Oh, no,” said Kagome, jumping in. “It’s not Inuyasha who wants to join. He’s just came here with me to keep me safe. We’ve never been on this side of the city before.”

 

“Did you say ‘Myouga?’ What is my dad’s old manager have to do with this?” Inuyasha demanded.

 

“Your dad? Was your dad Touga?”

 

Both Inuyasha and Kagome looked confused, but finally, Inuyasha nodded.  


“Really? He was a part of this very carnival twenty-five years ago! He was the original Dogboy!”

 

“Yeah. Not interested.” Inuyasha crossed his arms and looked toward the door. “I’m only here because this one,” he gestured toward Kagome, “said she felt powerful magic and needed to meet this new magician.”

 

“Meet me?”

 

Kagome nodded. “Ever since your caravan came to South City, I’ve felt an incredible aura coming from it. I am a priestess and can sense magics. I have to make sure that they’re being used responsibly, so I came to meet you. But the magic in here is so muddled. I can’t make it out. And as wonderful as your show was, I didn’t see any real magic in it.” She took the tarot card from before and spun it around. It went from Priestess to Empress with a sharp snap of electricity.

 

Sango felt taken aback. Like Kikyou, this woman could truly control magic. Though she hated being vulnerable to strangers, maybe someone with real knowledge of magic could help her out.

 

The truth was best. “I’ve never had a sliver of magic in me until about a week ago. And then…” she could not finish.

 

“You weren’t born with it,” Kagome said in a statement. It was not a question.

 

“No. My parents said I would develop it in time, but they died before they could show me how. The two of them had the real magic.”

 

“Hmm,” answered Kagome.  “If a person isn’t born with magic, they can usually only wield it using a talisman.” She looked at the coral around Sango’s wrist.

 

Sango regarded it as well. “I only bought this a year ago to put in my act to make the whole merman thing seem more real. Does it have magic?”

 

Kagome reached across the table and fingered the bracelet. “It’s hard to say. There is definite magic around us, but it’s so uncontained, I can’t focus on it. The only way to find out is to try to use it.”

 

Sango stood, then went over to the rabbit hutch and released Miroku. She set him on the ground, then turned to Kagome and Inuyasha. “This is… my boyfriend? I accidently turned him into a rabbit. Somehow. I want to try to turn him back.” Inuyasha looked impressed while Kagome’s brow knitted together. “I will try with this.”

 

Sango stood back and gripped her bracelet in her hand. It felt warm there, almost as if it were pulsing from the inside. She focused all her energy on this little hunk of coral and pictured Miroku’s smiling face. She could almost smell him in front of her. The last time she saw him, she was so angry, so ready to never have him in her life again. But now, it was different. She loved him, had loved him for years but was not ready to admit it. Maybe it would work for them, maybe not, but he did not deserve the life of a rabbit.

 

She focused and focused and remembered every eyelash, every freckle.

 

And nothing.

 

Nothing at all happened.

 

Sango let out a dejected sigh. “I don’t know how to turn him back.”

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon,” said Kagome. Shippou had a carrot in his pocket that he was proffering to Miroku, but the rabbit was instead intent on the corner of the curtain that hid Sango’s bed from view.

 

“It’s been a week!” Sango despaired.

 

“I promise you that there is strong magic in here. You said your parents had it? Do you have their things? We could look through them and try…”

 

Sango gasped. “The rings!” She reached into her bedside table and brought out the ring still on its necklace. “Miroku was wearing it when I turned him!”

 

Kagome took a step back, and a step forward. “Yes. There is something about this.”

 

Sango turned back to the sniffing rabbit. She focused again. She brought up every happy memory they had from the day he had presented her with her mother’s ring until the night they had finally made love. All that light and happiness she focused into that ring.

 

And still nothing.

 

Sango frowned and sank to her knees on the ground. “I just don’t know…” she began.

 

But then, the rabbit began to dig with his front paws at the corner of Sango’s bedspread. And a second later, they all heard a small ‘ting’ as a circle of silver hit the ground. Miroku picked it up with his teeth. Sango let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the ring, happy he could once again reunite her with it.

 

And in that moment, there was a smell of ozone, a spark in the air, and Miroku was in front of her once again, in the same clothes from the week before, holding the ring in his fingers.

 

“Sango,” he breathed.

 

“I… did it,” she responded.

 

And with that, he was on his knees beside her, enveloping her in his arms.

 

“What…” she began.

 

“Stop. Let me talk. I’ve had time to think and I need to tell you that I love you Sango.”

 

Sango’s mouth gaped open, then snapped shut. A blush descended from her hairline to her toes, knowing they had an audience for this.

 

“Sango, I’m sorry I just didn’t say what I meant two weeks ago, when you gave me your father’s ring. It’s just I didn’t want it on a necklace.” He showed her the thin silver of her mother’s ring and took her left hand in his. “I wanted it here.” With those words he slipped the ring on her finger. “I want you to marry me, but I thought having the ring on a necklace was your way of saying you weren’t ready yet. But I should have just asked. So I’m asking now. Sango, will you marry me?”  


Sango looked at the ring in her own hand and couldn’t stop the feeling of joy from spreading the smile on her own face. She took his left hand and slipped the ring onto his finger. His smile could light up the darkest of nights. “Yes,” she whispered.

 

They kissed, and Sango could hear a series of sparks around their heads. Sango looked up and saw actual magic lights exploding around them.

 

Kagome was clapping and jumping up and down. “I get it! Paired talismans! And you probably have to be in love for the magic to work! Oh, this is the best magic there is!” She turned and grinned at Inuyasha only looked uncomfortable at the public display of affection.

 

“So, as long as he wears his and I wear mine, we have magic?” Sango and Miroku stood, his arms falling, but still holding her hand in his.

 

Kagome looked at her like Sango was being simple. “What is love but man-made magic? The rings just amplify the effects and render them visible to everyone else.” She squealed again and leapt forward to hug Sango. “And that was the most romantic proposal I’ve ever seen! Congratulations!”

 

Sango could see Inuyasha rolling his eyes but chose to ignore him. Shippou, for his part was grinning wickedly at them. It was a happy day. Her happiest day. In their own way, her parents were looking out for her, making sure she found someone else in her life that would make it magical.

 

“Thank you, Kagome,” Sango said. “Do you still want to join the carnival?”

 

END.

 


End file.
